Lying in The Garden Sleeping
by VampedVixen
Summary: During Normal Again, Buffy choose to stay in the alternate universe, but there are somethings you can't run away from. FINALLY DONE!
1. Default Chapter

Lying In The Garden Sleeping  
  
By Vixen  
  
Summary: During Normal Again, Buffy choose to stay in the alternate universe, but there are somethings you can't run away from.  
  
"Buffy… Buffy, what have you done?" In the quiet voice, the one that tore at her heart, the redhead pleaded. Willow… Willow was her name, but how Buffy had known that she couldn't fathom. Blood pooled around them, dripping from Buffy's own two hands, like some sort of twisted stigmata. It covered everything. Everything she touched, everything around her, it was all painted with the pain of her two hands.  
  
"Oh my god. Buffy, help me!" Another voice, this one male, came from the other side of the basement Buffy was standing in. She looked over her shoulder, but moved too fast that the vertigo swam through mind and a wave of nausea hit her hard. There was nothing she could do; it was out of her hands. Her hands... still bloodied. Always the blood, it never stopped flowing.  
  
"I need you and love you…" A much younger voice called from somewhere else, but Buffy had no time to search for the speaker, as the blood had started to fill the basement quicker. It was up to her mouth, filling up her nose. A last silent murmur was heard just before the red liquid flooded her ears, "Somewhere inside you must know that's real."  
  
Drowning... she was drowning. Someone please, she silently screamed, please help me! Although she knew no help would come, because this was her own doing, her own fault, and it didn't matter anyway because the light was already fading away. And so was she. Buffy tried to speak, tried to say that she was sorry, but the only sound that was heard was a feeble gurgling as blood filled up her lungs.  
  
  
  
  
  
Abruptly, the alarm clock sounded like a mack truck ramming itself into Buffy's ears. Still haunted by the images of the nightmare, she jumped from the bed. Only after she had crashed onto the floor did she realize that she wasn't dead, but instead safe in her apartment bedroom. Blankets and pillows cluttered the floor that she had fallen on to, as a slender hand reached up to shut off the alarm.  
  
Wrapping a black silk robe carelessly around her shoulders, Buffy rambled on towards the adjoining bathroom. It had only been a dream, she tried to reassure herself. But it was that same dream, the one that had haunted her since leaving the Los Angeles Mental Institution. Those people, those voices… they seemed so familiar, but that part of her life had ended so long ago that memory had slowly erased any connection she had with them.  
  
Buffy grimaced at herself in the bathroom mirror; she looked horrible. Straggly pieces of her hair stood up everywhere, dark circles had formed under her eyes during the night, and without her makeup on she looked positively dead. No doubt she had lost a good quantity of quality rem sleep because of that nightmare.  
  
As she thought back to it, she tried to piece together what she could remember from that other life. No names, no places, no feelings, just random voices… whispers on the wind, growing fainter each day. Doubting herself again, she frowned inwardly, what would her parents think if they knew she was trying to remember something that wasn't even real.  
  
It was never real.  
  
God, how many different people in her life had tried to reassure her of that? It had been such a struggle, these past few years, just to let it go and to start living again. Her parents had only let her move out on her own a few months ago, after she promised them she would take her medicine everyday, and not get in trouble, and never ever think about the world she'd left behind.  
  
It had been an easy enough promise… until the nightmares started. Still, they only came sporadically, and there was no reason to worry her parents about something so silly as a few bed dreams.  
  
Opening the medicine cabinet, Buffy took out the orange pill bottle of Thorazine, filled a glass of water and swallowed two down. After a moment she looked back at herself in the mirror solemnly as if she could see the illness that had taken over her life so many years ago, "You're not going to take this away from me, not again. I'm happy here… I'm happy." This was one battle she was determined not to lose.  
  
  
  
  
  
Later that day, Buffy sat in a small café in downtown Los Angeles, a few blocks away from her apartment. It was a quaint bookstore type place her and Macy frequently met after work. Today was no different, the blond mused as she sipped on a latte, Macy was late, probably stopped to chat up some cute guy or argue with a co-worker. Of the two of them, Macy was the one who was always getting into trouble. Buffy had had her share of trouble for a lifetime, and only wanted the rest of her days to be stress-free and hassle-free.  
  
"Hey, Buffy, hope you didn't think I wasn't coming," Macy called as she entered the bookstore. In her hand she carried a few bags of clothes, "I saw the cutest outfit in this shop down on Market Street… and well, you know me when I go shopping."  
  
"Did you blow your father's credit card again?" Buffy grinned.  
  
"Um... not too much, a few hundred... that's not bad is it?"  
  
"Someday you're going to have to stop relying on daddy, you know," the blond pushed a piece of short hair away from her face. She teased her younger friend, "Get a job like the rest of us."  
  
"Not yet I hope," Macy shot her back a grin. "Anyway, I was wondering, today being Friday and all, our usual girl's night, how about we go to that new club down on Hawkins?"  
  
"You met a guy didn't you?" Recognizing the emotion that had crossed Macy's face, Buffy queried.  
  
"And he asked me to go with him to the opening." Macy nodded, knowing she had been caught breaking one of the sacred oaths the two friends had made a few years ago, to not cancel already made plans for a guy. "I figured you could come with us, a double date or something?"  
  
"And who would I bring?" Buffy pouted inwardly. She hadn't had the best track record with guys lately. The last one had found out about her past delusions and had stopped calling, after that she had found it hard to open up to anyone else.  
  
"You could come by yourself, then. Maybe you'll meet someone at the club, you know it's going to be pretty exclusive, since it's the first night." Pleading, Macy frowned slightly. "Please? For me?"  
  
With a sigh, Buffy nodded, "Okay, but I'm retaining all right to leave after an hour."  
  
"Agreed. One hour. You'll come, you'll party, you'll have fun. I promise."  
  
Somehow Buffy doubted that the night would bring anything good, but what else was she going to do if she didn't take her friend up on this offer? Sitting home alone, watching television and pigging out on Ben and Jerry's didn't sound much more appealing to her. Tonight she didn't want to be alone; she needed to be around people, real people.  
  
  
  
  
  
Standing in front of the full-length antique mirror that stood in the corner of her bedroom, Buffy held up a flowery green dress that was still on its hanger. It brought out the color of her eyes. Then, trying a different look, she held up a tight red dress to her body. It looked much better than the other one, but she was worried it would be a little too low cut for the club, might attract the wrong kind of guy.  
  
On the phone, her mother was talking about the latest golf game her father had won or some other silly banter. Buffy reprimanded herself for not listening to whatever was being said, but her mind was elsewhere. Balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder, she mumbled a few 'yes's to make her mother think she was paying attention.  
  
"Where are you going tonight, dear?" Her mother asked on the other side of the phone.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You weren't listening were you?"  
  
"I'm sorry, mom. I'm just…" Buffy held up the green dress one last time, "I'm trying to decide what to wear tonight, or if I even want to go out." She walked into the living room and flopped on the black couch. "Macy met this guy, and we're supposed to double date, only I don't have a date…"  
  
"Why don't you invite that nice guy from marketing?"  
  
"Mom, that nice guy from marketing is gay," Buffy silently shook her head, her mother was always going on about available guys.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"How about—"  
  
"Mom, really, thanks for the advice but…" She sighed. "I'm just not into guys at the moment."  
  
"You're not going gay too, are you?"  
  
"What?! No, geez, mom, just because I'm not interested in guys at the moment doesn't mean that I might someday meet someone I can be interested in."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Wait a minute.." Buffy realized reverse psychology was being played on her.  
  
Unrelenting, Buffy's mom continued, "Someday you might meet someone you can be interested in, and maybe that someday is tonight. You can't find love if you never try."  
  
"Gee, thanks for the pep talk…" The blond slumped into the couch. Not that she didn't appreciate her mother's help, but after everything she had gone through she didn't feel up to the challenge, and had pretty much given up on this nonsense idea of love.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Please go have some fun tonight, you sound like you can use it."  
  
After a sigh, Buffy nodded, "Okay, I will… but only because Macy is going to be here in a half hour and I can't cancel."  
  
"That's the spirit," her mother chuckled at Buffy's half attempt to agree, her daughter was always the obstinate one. "And wear the red dress, it always looks nice on you."  
  
Without even bothering to wonder how her mother knew of her clothing dilemma Buffy smiled, "Talk to you tomorrow, Mom."  
  
"Bye, sweetie."  
  
  
  
  
  
It took a little more than half an hour for Macy and her new boy to show up at Buffy's door, which actually turned out to be a good thing since she was procrastinating so much on getting ready that she was late as well.  
  
Though, when her friend did show up Buffy looked amazing. Her hair was swept up in a French twist with tiny strands falling along the side of her face, and she had found the perfect shade of lipstick to match her dress, and her favorite red strappy high heels completed the outfit.  
  
"Wow, Buffy, loving the dress. It really works for you," Macy smiled, as she entered the apartment, "This is Alex."  
  
"A pleasure," Alex gracefully shook Buffy's hand. From the look of it, this new guy of Macy's had a lot of money, which was probably why her friend had chosen to consent to this date.  
  
"Likewise," Buffy nodded, trying to be polite.  
  
"Oh, guess what, Buffy?" A little hyper from the night, Macy asked, "Alex got a limo for the night. We took a long-cut to your house because we were having so much fun in the limo..."  
  
Buffy grinned and let out a little laugh.  
  
"Oh, did that come out wrong?" Macy blushingly joined in the laughing.  
  
"A little."  
  
"Well, what are we waiting for, let the night begin, let's go." Macy wrapped an arm around Alex, with her other hand she took Buffy's wrist, leading them to the door.  
  
  
  
Arriving at the club was exciting, and for a moment Buffy forgot her troubles in the bustle of the crowd. The place was huge, and very exclusive, but then again this was Los Angeles and most clubs were exclusive the first month in operation, and then it would slowly die down when the public got wind of the new spot, and then the trend would move to the next newest club.  
  
They were sitting at a high table, on the left side of the huge ballroom. After enjoying a drink, Macy was ready to go party, "Me and Alex are gonna go dance, are you going to be okay?"  
  
Buffy looked up from the drink that she wasn't drinking, just stirring it lazily like she had been for the past hour, "Yeah, I'll be fine. Go. Have fun." She watched as her friend disappeared with her boytoy. Why couldn't she be like them? So happy, so in love. With a sigh her gaze wandered past the crowd, traveling over to the pool table. It almost reminded her of a place she had been before, some place from the past, but she had only started going to clubs a year ago when she moved out on her own. Her parents had always worried about her before.  
  
Everyone always worried about her, poor delusional Buffy. No, not delusional, not anymore. It wasn't going to get to her again. She had promised herself.  
  
Then out of the corner of her eye she saw someone familiar, turning her gaze to him she still couldn't place him. Her eyes traveled up his black duster, black jeans, lean stomach, black shirt, pale skin, and those eyes. The bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life. He met her stare, and in that moment they connected and everything came flooding back to Buffy.  
  
"No, no," she stumbled off the bar chair she was sitting on. A few people turned to stare at her fumbled movements. Buffy breathed, "Oh god."  
  
He was coming toward her, this guy. She knew him, she knew him move than she cared to admit. It wasn't happening, not here, not again. Spike. No, no, she inwardly cried before rushing toward the back exit.  
  
Racing out the door and into the darkened ally, she let a few tears fall down her face. It wasn't going to happen again. Looking up to the night sky she cried, "He's not real, he's not real."  
  
"Buffy?" A too familiar voice cracked behind her.  
  
"No. No!" The blond didn't even dare to turn around as the tears fell in steady downpours. "You're not here, you're not. Please just… please just go away. I can't—I can't—"  
  
Spike walked over to her, standing in front of her; cautiously he put a hand under her chin. He didn't know what else to say except, "I found you." His voice was as emotional as hers.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy dared to speak after a moment; her cheeks were black with dripping mascara, "Oh, god, no. Why are you here? You can't be here." Suddenly she found her strength again and started to hit him on the chest, "You can't be here... you can't. I'm better."  
  
He tried as best he could to calm her down throughout her outburst.  
  
"You can't be here! You'll just wreck everything." Finally she just collapsed into his arms, not having any more strength to fight. She whimpered, "You're gonna wreck everything."  
  
"Seems that's what I do best, luv." The vampire looked down at her.  
  
"Why are you here?" Buffy asked after a moment, still slightly upset.  
  
"I'm here ta take you back home. Back to Sunnydale."  
  
Backing away from him, into the darkened ally, she bit her lip, "That's not my home, Spike. Not anymore."  
  
"Buffy—"  
  
"I'm not going back there!" She started to run away, but the heel of her shoe broke as she tripped on a rather large crack in the sidewalk. Her hair fell out of its French twist as she picked herself back up. Wondering what else would go wrong tonight, Buffy ran a hand through her tousled hair.  
  
"Can we just talk? Maybe go back to your place?" Spike stood behind her, watching from a distance, trying not to frighten her away.  
  
"Fine, fine!" Irritated, Buffy held her shoes in one hand and held her other in a fist at her side. "Whatever, if the delusion wants to follow me home whynot, right? I mean, it would just be the icing to this wonderful night I seem to be having!" She started off in the direction of her apartment, waiting for Spike to follow this time.  
  
For a moment he stood transfixed on her ass as it bounced when she walked, "You're cute when you're angry."  
  
As she turned back to make a face at him, she felt a few raindrops starting to fall. Buffy stared up at the sky, "Great, just great."  
  
While she continued walking, Spike just chuckled to himself and followed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters, I'm just kidnapping them for a bit.  
  
Notes: Thanks for all the reviews so far; they helped get my creative juices flowing so I could bang this chapter out.  
  
Lying in the Garden Sleeping: Part 2  
  
1 By Vixen  
  
By the time Buffy and Spike reached her apartment the slight drizzle had transformed into near torrential flooding weather. Only once they had reached the subway had Buffy remembered that she left her wallet in the limo, so she and the vampire had walked the thirty or so blocks back to her home.  
  
Pouting and mumbling the whole way, Buffy had never once spoken to Spike. She had preferred not to acknowledge the presence of the figment of her delusion at all. Still, she unconsciously made sure that he was behind her every few blocks. Although she knew that he was just a trap for her mind, a part of her wanted him close, because he reminded her of a home that was lost to her, and that dream that was all too real.  
  
Now, standing in front of the door, Buffy looked up at him as she fumbled to fish her keys out of her pocket. As their eyes met for the first time since the long walk back, he smiled at her.  
  
Damn him, she thought, damn him and that egotistical smirk. Like as if he could just show up and she would drop everything and go with him. Go off to Sunnydale. That place was just something conjured up from the back of her mind so very long ago, back when she was sick.  
  
Pushing open the door, Buffy stepped into her living room and waited for Spike to follow.  
  
"Are you going to invite me in, or you just going to let me stand outside soaking up the rain?"  
  
"What?" Buffy could have smacked herself. The logic of vampire-ness had become so buried in her mind she had forgotten that a vampire couldn't enter a mortal's house. They needed to be asked inside. They needed permission. Which was the last thing Buffy felt like giving to him at the moment… but she wanted answers. After all this time, she needed to know why he had come back into her life. "Sure, why not, come on in. I'd tell you to wipe your feet, but imaginary friends probably don't track that much dirt, right?"  
  
Spike stepped on inside the small living quarters, "You keep saying that."  
  
"What?" Blond hair stood in wet clumps around her face, and looking down at her soaking burgundy dress she felt self-conscious. He could probably see right through it.  
  
Casually, he took off his leather duster and laid it on the couch, "That I'm not real. You know" Narrowing his eyes at her, he sat down on the edge of the couch, "Maybe it's you. Maybe you're not. This place, Buffy, it's—"  
  
"Don't." Shaking her head, as if she could block the thoughts that had already been given voice. "Don't say that, because that's the first step. Or maybe it's the second, I've lost track. See, first I see you, then you convince me that my whole life is a sham and none of it means anything, and then you ask me to disappear with you to a place where I can be in charge, I can be the slayer again—" She stopped in mid-sentence, shocked by the word she had given up speaking years ago, "Slayer…slay-er," Rolling the word around in her mouth, Buffy savored each syllable, "I'm the slayer, I remember."  
  
"So, yeah, you remember. Now to get the hell out of this place, right?" Spike stood up, about to rush out the door. He looked at her expectantly.  
  
"After the hospital—"Instead of going along with Spike, Buffy remained where she was, deep in thought, "I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to know anything about that, and my parents… well, they never spoke about my delusions anyway. And of course I could never ask them. I'm surprised I even knew you when I saw you…. What is a slayer anyway?"  
  
Dumbfounded, the vampire looked at her, finally understanding just how lost she was, "You… you don't know what a slayer is? What exactly is it that you do remember about Sunnydale?"  
  
"Just… voices. And feelings. I was a slayer, wasn't I?" Buffy sat on the opposite end of the couch, trying to remain as distant as she could. Since they had left the alleyway, she had tried to keep from brushing up against him as much as possible. Those cold brief contacts when he had held her chin in his hands, they had burnt her inside. Knowing that his touch could feel so real terrified her.  
  
"Buffy, you weren't just 'a slayer', you were 'THE Slayer'… well besides some chit of a girl in maximum security. Don't know if she's still there though. Council thinks she died in the riots, but they never knew a bloody thing in the first place."  
  
"Riots?"  
  
"Vampires went bloody nuts when you left. Figured it was high time they had some fun without the slayer breathing down their necks."  
  
Something inside of her screamed to her soul about duty, and responsibility, but for what. It wasn't her fault, she couldn't stop it, and besides, that world was just some deeply shadowed dream inside her subconscious. "As much fun as this conversation has been, I'm going to go take a shower, and put on some clean clothes." Heading towards the bedroom, she continued, "Make yourself at home while I'm—"  
  
Following her with his eyes, Spike's mouth set into a hard line, "You don't even care, do you?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"This is your duty, Buffy. You're the only one who can stop this," Pausing, Spike sighed. "Bugger, when did I get so soft! Know what?" Nonchalantly he crossed his hands behind his head, and pitched his feet up onto the coffee table, "You don't care, fine then. Let the world be destroyed. Bloody better than living in it right?"  
  
"I don't even know what you're talking about," Angrily Buffy spit back the words at him, "Sunnydale is just a word to me. It means nothing." Leaving him alone, she started for the shower.  
  
Feeling the gap that time, and this new world had made, Spike sat in silence for a moment. The slayer really didn't want to help; the one person who could make a difference didn't even care enough to sit down and have a bloody conversation about it. Picking up the remote control, Spike clicked on the television, "We'll see, Slayer. We'll see."  
  
  
  
  
  
Later, Buffy reentered the living room, dressed in black silk pajamas with her hair tied up in a ponytail. When she saw Spike still sitting there, watching tv and having a smoke, she grimaced. "I was hoping you'd be gone by now."  
  
Placing the cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he straightened up as he saw her approach. Still so beautiful, a little bit older, but even now, after not seeing her for what felt like an eternity, her agile body made it feel as if his heart still beat. "Sorry to disappoint."  
  
"I'm going to be reasonable about this, you know. I'm trying—" With a small shrug of her shoulders, she crossed the room. On the cold wooden floor, her footsteps fell timidly, as she inched towards him. It was just a trick of her mind, she repeated over and over again. It didn't seem to make a different though; there he was, still smirking at her. "I'm trying to understand. But…"  
  
"You're not trying." This was going to be a serious conversation; Spike could feel the approaching storm. Switching the television off, he tossed the controller on the table, "You're avoiding, as per usual."  
  
"I just—I don't want to be sick anymore."  
  
"You're not sick, Buffy. A little bloody self-centered, but not sick. If you continue to go on this way though you will drive yourself bonkers, I assure you."  
  
"Fine then," Languidly, she curled her feet under her, getting comfortable. Placing her elbow on the back of the chair, she leaned against her hand, "Make me remember. Tell me what it was like back in… Sunnydale. What's a slayer?"  
  
"'Into each generation a Slayer is born, one girl in all the world, a Chosen One, one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires. To stop the spread of their evil, yadda yadda." Spike grinned at himself as he recited the boring Watcher's Council version, "Truth is a slayer is… pure energy, driven by the need to kill, athletic, cunning, and of course they have to be incredibly hot. Its, you know, one of the prerequisites."  
  
Buffy blushed a bit as he teased her, "But you're a vampire. You don't feel evil. I mean, you don't seem dangerous."  
  
"Because I have a bloody chip in my head, makes it so I can't kill humans."  
  
Pieces of random information gradually leaked back into her mind, the basics about being a slayer, having a watcher, vampire lore, but still nothing significant, no people. Only Spike. For some reason she felt an incredible connection with him, "But you used to. I used to fight you, didn't I?"  
  
"Oh, we had our share. We also tended to shag a lot. I liked that part."  
  
"We did not!" Unsure of whether he was joking or not, she laughed.  
  
"We did." Spike nodded back at her, "You're an animal under the sheets, slayer."  
  
What exactly do you say to that, she wondered. When some half recalled nightmare tells you that you used to sleep together. Maybe this was just brought on by the fact that I had no date tonight, she thought to herself. Mom was right; I really do need to get out more. Start finding guys that aren't vampires, and didn't want to drag you back into your own little world. Nevertheless, everything he had said had felt right. So much more genuine than anything had these days.  
  
Shutting her eyes, Buffy gently took everything in. "What was Sunnydale like?"  
  
"Peaceful little burb', quiet and sunny during the day. Didn't seem like the kind of place a hellmouth would lay beneath. It attracted all the nasties. Demons, vampires, gods, you name it, it was there."  
  
"Those things don't really—"  
  
"If you say they don't exist one more time, I'm going to tape your gob shut," Dismissively he interjected. "You never did like to listen, did you? No, you were always the take action sort of girl. Came with being a slayer I guess."  
  
"So, fine, say they exist. How could I, one measly person, fight off all of those paranormal weird thingies?"  
  
"You had your friends. That whelp Xander, the witch…"  
  
"Oh my god," Breathing became difficult as all the memories of the time she had shared with her Scooby Gang came back to her. Meeting them when she transferred to Sunnydale, hanging out in the library, fighting together, doing all the high school senior years things. The prom, the near massacre at graduation, finally getting out of school and heading off to college. Dorming with Willow. Xander and Anya. Willow and Tara. Dawn. Little Dawnie. And then Giles left, and the day their lives turned into a musical from hell, and then… and then... "Oh god," She couldn't breath, each second she was drowning in a new flood of tears, "No."  
  
Spike put his arms around her, as she cried into his shoulder. He had known it would come to this, when the truth came out, when she remembered what had happened.  
  
Between ragged gasps she managed to choke out, "Oh god, Spike, I killed them."  
  
The images rammed into her mind, everything was so clear now. The night the world came apart replayed in her mind. She had tied up Willow and put her in the basement. Then it was Xander's turn, she had half-strangled him, and then pushed him down the stairs to lie in wait with Willow. Dawn came next, and then Tara. Huddled underneath the stairwell she had pulled on Tara's ankle just as the girl was coming to save the rest of them. Her neck had bent at such an unnatural angle; Tara had been the first to die that night. Soon after, the Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik demon had gotten loose and slaughtered the rest.  
  
And she watched, and did nothing.  
  
Nothing.  
  
She could have saved them, but she wanted to go home. She wanted to be safe in her mother's arms again, even if it wasn't real. After so many years fighting off the forces of darkness, Buffy didn't want to deal with it anymore, and from this denial of her destiny, from this desire to be normal again, she had destroyed everyone she had ever held dear.  
  
Xander. Willow. Dawn. Tara. Everyone.  
  
"Oh, god, Spike," Buffy held onto him, as if he could save her from what had already happened, "I killed them."  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED… 


	3. Chapter 3

Lying In the Garden Sleeping: Part 3  
  
By Vixen  
  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue, because all I have are my signed copies of Common Rotation and Voltaire cds, and if you try to take either of those there will be hell to pay!  
  
  
  
If Buffy thought she didn't want Spike there before, now his presence was like a knife through her heart. If he was there then is meant that everything had really happened; she had allowed for that demon, that monster to tear apart her friends, to massacre them as they lay helplessly bound on the cold basement cement. They had been her friends, her one true family, the only ones who had been able to cope with her slayer lineage. When she had first become the slayer the Scoobies had supported her while the rest of the world assumed she was just a freak, a random outcast. If it hadn't been for them, she would have died, but now their deaths were on her hands. The dream meant sense now, but how she wished it didn't.  
  
Because Buffy couldn't deal with her life, she had created a new one. Though now, it felt like the walls inside her self-built prison were closing in on her.  
  
Breaking away from the embrace Spike still held her in, she staggered away, and stood frozen. How could she have just allowed for this to happen? Or did it even really happen? The doctors had said that her "mind traps" might reemerge someday, to try to pull her into their world.  
  
"It didn't happen. It didn't!" Holding her shoulders, she tried to sooth the pain that threatened to break her.  
  
Slowly and calmly, Spike rose to meet her, standing only a few feet away. "Buffy…"  
  
"Don't! You're lying!" Wiping a few tears away from her eyes, Buffy stepped back, away from the origin of all her pain. If he weren't here, then none of this would be happening. She could have continued to live in her little world of ignorance, unaware of the disaster she had caused. But it wasn't him anymore, the pain, the guilt; it came from somewhere deep inside.  
  
Turning away from him, she attempted to rush off to her bedroom, but he grabbed her wrist, a bit too rough, "We have to talk about this, Buffy. You can't just…"  
  
"Let me go!" She cried.  
  
Unaware he had grabbed her so roughly, Spike at once let go. "I'm sorry… but, Buffy.."  
  
Taking that opportunity to run off into her bedroom, Buffy slammed the door shut behind her. Spike came after her, but as he tried to open the door he found that it was locked.  
  
"Buffy! Open up!"  
  
"No, go away," She slid to the floor, leaning against the door as he continued to pound on it. Holding her head in her hands, she cried, "Just go away."  
  
"Buffy," The vampire hollered from the other side of the door, "Please, luv, open the door."  
  
Glancing around the room, she looked for a way to escape. Unfortunately the only window in the room was too small for her to get through, plus her apartment was a few stories up in the air. Tears fell like rapids, as she listened to her name being called over and over, why wouldn't he just go away.  
  
Rising to her feet, she walked into the bathroom. A little dazed, she mumbled, "I need to make you go away." Opening the door to the cabinet above the sink, her hand reached for the bottle of pills the doctor had given her, the medicine that were supposed to alleviate her delusions. Marked on the bottom of the bottle were the words she had chosen to ignore as she poured out a handful, 'Take one, three times a day.'  
  
One by one, she shoved them into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. One, two, three, four, by the fifth one she had lost count. "You're not here," She said and gulped another one down, "You're not real!"  
  
"Buffy!!" Faintly she heard her name being called from far away. The voice seemed worried about something, but she was too sleepy to care.  
  
"You're not real!" Dizzily she swallowed another pill. "You're not…" The sound of her body hitting the bathroom floor resonated through the apartment, just as the bedroom door collapsed, kicked in by Spike's foot.  
  
"Buffy?" Hastily, Spike rushed to the source of the noise, only to find the slayer passed out, still with the bottle of pills in her hand, only now it was empty. "Bloody hell. Slayer? Buffy?" Taking one of her wrists, he delicately tried to pinpoint a pulse. It was there, but it was erratic. He let the hand fall lightly to the ground, not for the first time wishing that he were human. He could have done CPR and possibly revived her, but now the only chance was to get her to a hospital, and quickly.  
  
Gently, Spike cradled Buffy in his arms, carrying out the front door. As the vampire hurried to the streets to try to hail a taxi, a girl with black hair came running up to him. She almost looked like Faith, but that was impossible.  
  
"Buffy!" She shrieked, and looked up to Spike, "What happened?"  
  
Still trying to hail a taxi, he looked annoyed at the girl, "Apparently she had some difficulty following the doctors instructions. That and she had a nasty fall."  
  
"And who are you?"  
  
"Just call me the barer of bad tidings."  
  
The girl nodded realizing it didn't matter, because they needed to get Buffy to a doctor, "I'm a friend of Buffy's. You can call me Macy." Suddenly, the girl stepped into the first lane of the city street. The approaching car stopped, screeching on its brakes.  
  
Angrily, the owner rolled down the window, "Just what do you think you're doing?"  
  
Macy rushed over to car, "We need a ride, and we need a ride now. So either you kindly take us and our friend over to St. Mercy's Hospital, or we will eject you from the driver's seat and hijack your car. Your choice."  
  
The driver looked over to Buffy, still passed out in Spike's arms, and realized it was an emergency, "Get in."  
  
"Nice friends," Spike muttered, grinning to the unconscious Buffy. It only took a moment to get everyone into the backseat of the car, quickly after that the driver sped through traffic, dodging through a few red lights and just narrowly missing a oncoming truck.  
  
Spike, though, was too preoccupied with Buffy, as she laid leaning against his chest. "You're going to be okay, luv. I promise," but still he wasn't sure if it was a promise he would be able to keep.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED… 


	4. Chapter 4

Lying In The Garden Sleeping: Part 4  
  
By Vixen  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is god, he must be worshipped. I come baring fanfic in his honor, so do not smite me... cause that's not nice.  
  
  
  
The artificial light came flooding through Buffy's eyes, as she blinked; moving very little, but even then the pain came back. Her body felt numb and sort of tingly at the same time. Her mouth was like cotton, and her lips were dry and cracked. Attached to her arm was an IV that was pumping a clear thick liquid into her body.  
  
"Buffy Anne Summers, just what did you think you were doing?" Joyce rose from her chair, to stand above her daughter's hospital bed; her voice was troubled, mingled with a touch of frustration.  
  
"Mom…" Barely able to speak, Buffy realized trying to explain would be a daunting task.  
  
"I was so worried," Letting out a breath she had been holding ever since her daughter had been brought to the hospital three days ago, Joyce continued, "They didn't know if you were going to make it. I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again. Buffy, I love you. You're my daughter, I couldn't-I don't think I could live without you."  
  
"I'm sorry," Buffy coughed.  
  
After a moment, Joyce continued, "You're moving back in with us. I've packed up all the things in your apartment-"  
  
"Mom, no-"  
  
"You need to be watched." Frowning, Buffy's mother persisted, "I don't know what I was even thinking, allowing you to move out."  
  
This was just what she had been worried about, Buffy thought, and regardless of how much she had fought against the inevitable her parents thought she was nuts once again. The freedom she had gained over the past few months, the ability to make her own choices, to go where she pleased, it was all being taken away from her so that she could remain in her parent's house like a prisoner, like an invalid. "Please, I'll be better, I promise… I won't-"  
  
"You're moving back. End of discussion," Looking back at her daughter, Joyce knew how upset this would make her, but she needed to keep her daughter alive, and at the moment this felt like the only way to do that. "I love you, and I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I worry Buffy. I worry that someday you're going to do something like this again, and you won't wake up." They shared a long stare, unable to speak because the words were too upsetting, "I'm going to go call your father. He'll want to know that you're awake."  
  
"Mom," Buffy called out, just as her mother was at the doorway. Joyce stopped, and turned back. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too, sweetie. Now get some rest."  
  
  
  
The next few hours were spent staring at the ceiling, trying to count how many dots there were on the ceiling, playing with her IV, entertaining a few visiting relatives and flipping through the television channels but finding nothing good was on. The visit from her father had been nearly as awkward from the first one with her mother. Buffy felt guilty, upsetting them this much, but as the doctors had tried to reassure her and her family, suicide was caused mainly from a chemical imbalance, one she couldn't control.  
  
Chemical imbalance, she grimaced to herself, thinking about the real cause of all of this. Spike was just a chemical imbalance, but slowly she was beginning to believe him. In a way, she had always believed him, ever since he had shown up the night at the club. From the moment she saw him, she knew. Possibly even before that, because she had never felt entirely right in this world, like she didn't belong.  
  
The doctors had come by a few times, adding notes to her chart, recording her progress, making the usual small talk. They had given her some more pills that were supposed to alleviate her 'mind traps', but she knew they wouldn't work. Spike was still out there. It wasn't over.  
  
  
  
"Hey," a voice called from the doorway during night visiting hours.  
  
Buffy had been hoping Spike would show up; maybe try to take her away from here again, because now she knew she would go with him. But Buffy knew the voice too well to know who it really was. "Hi, Macy."  
  
"How are you feeling," energetic as always, Macy walked in and placed a few balloons in the corner of the room.  
  
"Like crap."  
  
"Geez, Buff, you scared us," With a serious Buffy didn't know her friend possessed, Macy spoke, "Never ever do that again! God, I had to nearly attack some random guy to get him to drive us to the hospital, and all the while I'm worrying that when we get there you're going to be dead. You're my best friend, you know?" Her rant took on a life of its own as she prattled on, "And I was with you that night, if you had really killed yourself, do you know how I would have felt? The fact that I saw you, and I could have done something, but I was so wrapped up with Alex to notice that you were so upset, and-"  
  
"Macy, slow down, you're going to give yourself a heart attack," Buffy grinned.  
  
  
  
Sighing, Macy took a moment. With furrowed brows, she spoke again, slower this time, "Just please don't do that again."  
  
"I won't." Buffy nodded, "I promise."  
  
"Good," Macy sat down in one of the chairs, regaining her bounciness, "Now that that's taken care of… who was that guy who brought you here?"  
  
"What guy," Sitting up in bed, Buffy glanced over at her friend intently.  
  
"Hmm... the really cute one. Bleach blond hair, pale as a ghost, spoke with an English accent."  
  
This was an incredible revelation. If Macy had seen Spike then it could mean a world of possibilities. All this time Buffy had worried that she was going crazy, and now here was Macy saying that she had seen him too. Smiling absently Buffy said simply, "Spike. That was Spike."  
  
"You know someone named 'Spike'? You little rebel, you!"  
  
"What happened? When did you see him?" Or rather 'how', but Buffy didn't want to bring that up. It was better not to tell her about the whole Sunnydale mess.  
  
"I met him outside your apartment." Macy told the tale, "I was bringing back your wallet; you left it in the limo. So I get to your house and he's on the sidewalk trying to catch a cab. Then we brought you here and waited in the waiting room until the doctors said that there was nothing we could do and we might as well go home for the time being."  
  
"Did he say anything when he was here?"  
  
"Nope. Just that maybe it would have been better if he hadn't told you," Curiously, Macy added, "What did he say to you? Is that why you… did… what you did?"  
  
"It wasn't entirely all his fault," Buffy shook her head, "He just told me a few things that I couldn't handle. I wasn't ready, but I think I am now."  
  
"What exactly is going on?" This wasn't like Buffy, Macy thought. She had always been outgoing with her feelings, telling her best friend what was on her mind, but now she had this whole big secret and Macy wanted in on it.  
  
"And I'm not sure really sure, but I need to speak to him."  
  
"When you do, can you give him my number?"  
  
"Macy!" Buffy giggled and chucked her pillow at her friend. Their laughter soon filled the small hospital room. Maybe this wasn't her life, but it wasn't half bad either.  
  
  
  
It had been a week until the doctors would sign Buffy's release from the hospital. One week and still no visits from Spike. As she stood at the hospital exit with her mother, waiting for her father to pull the car around, Buffy felt like a door had been shut in her face. There was a chance for her to go back to Sunnydale, to go back to her real life, and she had chosen to hide again. Now Spike was gone, Buffy didn't know if he was coming back, and now she was stuck here in this world, going back to her parent's house where they could treat her like the freak she felt like.  
  
Macy had seen him. Buffy clung to that piece of information as if it were the only thing that could save her, and it probably was. It meant that she wasn't crazy and that someday she might be able to go back to where she belonged. Did she really want to go back to Sunnydale, though? The endless fighting had been enough for her to make the choice to leave, and to destroy her friends in the process, so how would she just go back to being a slayer? Was she ever a slayer anymore? She didn't feel very strong at the moment, she felt weak and fragile.  
  
  
  
Moving into her parent's house had been a nightmare, and it had only been the first day. Her parents had went through her stuff, getting rid of any sharp objects she might use to hurt herself, and had placed a lock on the medicine cabinet so now she had to ask them to get her what she needed.  
  
Her bedroom was bigger than the one back at her apartment, but it felt so small. She had set about unpacking the cardboard boxes and putting her belongings into the closet and the dresser.  
  
Buffy picked up a picture frame from a small box. She looked at the picture in it of her family, mom, dad, Buffy. No Dawn. Still, they looked happy, complete. It didn't make sense, Buffy thought as she placed it on the windowsill.  
  
Her green eyes turned upward, out the second story window, into the suburban town and recalled her childhood. She had grown up here; she could remember learning to ride a bike and falling onto the neighbor's lawn. Or the water balloon fight with her friend Mike, he had since moved out to Chicago. But how could she even know that? How did she know the town's layout, with each block containing a different memory, if she hadn't been there to make the memories in the first place?  
  
"It just doesn't make sense," Buffy sighed inwardly, afraid that with Spike gone it never would.  
  
  
  
After about a month spent living at her parent's house, Buffy had gotten used to it. It was even nice to have her family around, at least sometimes it was. Other times she missed the quietness of her old apartment.  
  
That night, like many others, she was hanging out in her room after a long day at work. The television was on, but it was just background noise while she was busy making a scrapbook. It was just something to do, to keep her preoccupied and not bored out of her mind. Macy had called before, but she was out on the town now. It must be nice, Buffy mused, not to be stuck in the house because your parents don't trust you to be by yourself. Her mother had even taken away her scissors when she saw her making the scrapbook, now Buffy was relegated to using some cheap kindergarten scissors that didn't cut through anything.  
  
Finally Buffy gave up and went over to the window. Her eyes passed over the neighbor's yard and were surprised to see someone standing over by the trees. Buffy opened the window, and leaned out, trying to catch a better glimpse of the stranger.  
  
As soon as she did, though, he had headed away from the yard and down the street. Buffy squinted, and in the moonlight she could see the blond hair and leather jacket. "Spike!" She called out, though she knew he couldn't hear her, "Damn it."  
  
Hurrying down the stairs, making as little noise as possible, Buffy crept towards the front door. She had to get to him before he left.  
  
Right as she was turning the doorknob, her mother showed up behind her. "Buffy, where are you going? You know you have a curfew."  
  
"Mom, I have to go out. It's important."  
  
"It can't wait till morning," Joyce sternly stepped between her daughter and the front door. "Besides, diner is almost ready."  
  
"No, mom, it really can't wait."  
  
"I'm not letting you leave, Buffy."  
  
"Please, I don't have time for this."  
  
"No," Joyce simply replied, but still her voice commanded attention.  
  
"Fine, fine," Buffy shouted, "Just continue to treat me like a child." Turning and running back up the stairs, she pouted. Once in her bedroom, she slammed the door. Crossing her arms against her chest, Buffy started to get even more upset, "Now how am I supposed to talk to him?" Gazing at the window, where she had seen him leave, she started to get an idea.  
  
She could probably fit out the window; she mused, and then use the drain pipe as a step ladder. Opening the window, she looked down to the ground and gulped. It was a really long way down; she'd probably wind up back at the hospital if she fell, or worse.  
  
Still, she grimaced placing a leg through the window, she had to see him; she had to at least tell him that she was sorry for not believing him. And maybe he could get her back to Sunnydale, and home at last.  
  
The whole climbing-down-the-drainpipe wasn't as hard as she thought it would be, Buffy figured it was all that practice she had gotten when she had first moved to Sunnydale. Unfortunately, it had been a different world and a long time ago since her sneaking out of windows thing ended, and her body wasn't quite as up to the challenge anymore, she realized as she grabbed a loose piece of the side of the house and came crashing down into the gardenias.  
  
Brushing herself off, she checked for bruises. There were none, but she was still sure she would be hurting in the morning. Making sure no one had seen her little escapade; she took a few quick glances around and then headed off down the street to track down the vampire.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED… 


	5. Chapter 5

Lying in the Garden The finale!!  
  
*wonders if anyone is still reading this fic*  
  
And now on to the conclusion:  
  
The light on the streets was dim as Buffy traced Spike's steps. The vampire was moving too quickly to be followed, but she couldn't stop. He had become the only truth in this new world, and stopping for even a second would leave her stranded and lost forever.  
  
Every so often she would find a broken twig, or pick up the scent of the dead. Spike was close, every fiber of her being tingled, her natural slayer instincts kicked in even though they had not been used for years. It was still a part of her, still inside her. She was the slayer, and Spike was her prey.  
  
The slayer ran through the night, just until it was nearly dawn. By the time Buffy spotted him again it was at the edge of the shores of Dockweiler Beach. From the dunes, she watched him silently, breathing slowly and taking the sight of him in.  
  
"Target spotted, initiate contact," The slayer muttered to herself, though she couldn't bring herself to go down to him. To talk to the one person who could make sense of the world. What right did she have to invade his territory anymore, after making it clear she wanted nothing to do with him or the world she had left behind?  
  
Standing sentient, from her vantage point high on the dunes, she stared at him until, after noticing someone watching him, Spike turned around and looked up towards where she stood. Their eyes met. Even from far away, Buffy could feel the heat of his stare. It unnerved her.  
  
With an angel's grace, she followed the footsteps he had laid in the sand when he had first arrived at the shore. Slowly but surely, the slayer moved until she stood near him. "Spike... I..." Spike's eyes met hers once more, and she realized how close they were standing. Feeling lost in his ocean blue eyes, Buffy quickly glanced away, and for the first time noticed how close the sun was to rising.  
  
"You said you wanted to end it Slayer, well, this is the end. Come to watch me burst into flames then. Would that make you happy?"  
  
Turning back towards him, in a low voice she began, "I know you're mad but."  
  
"Damn right, I'm mad." He shouted at her, "Do you have any idea how hard it was to get to you? Can you possibly understand what I risked in coming to what you are so eager to call 'home'?!" Pausing, to reign in his anger, voice breaking all the while, "I just wanted to feel you again. To touch you. the old you. I wanted what you helped destroy." He paused for a moment, thinking of the past, "You know, I don't understand it, but I even miss the others. The witches, niblet . even that bleeding nancy boy Xander."  
  
Buffy tried to touch him, but the vampire pulled away and faced out to the horizon. The sun's rays were bouncing along the waters; soon it would be too late. Hurrying to find a way to convince Spike to get to shelter, Buffy started, "I want to go home with you."  
  
"Why?" He turned back towards her with narrow eyes, "Because everything in this world is falling apart as much as the last one? You're just running away again, Buffy. It's all you ever do."  
  
The slayer slapped him across the face, harshly, but then backed away ashamed, "I'm sorry." Feeling all the guilt of all the past years, everything she had caused, Buffy fell on her knees as fists pounded the sandy ground. "I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I was just so tired, of everything, I couldn't do it anymore." Sobbing uncontrollably, she almost didn't notice Spike pulling her up and onto her feet. Her head rested on his chest, as the vampire wrapped his arms around her and just let her cry, "I was just so tired..." Taking a breath, Buffy looked up into his eyes, "I want to go home now, Spike. Please help me."  
  
Silently, Spike reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small dark blue stone pendant. "Do you remember what this is?" He asked Buffy while she still clung to him.  
  
"Isn't it. Anya's vengeance demon necklace... how did you get it?"  
  
Holding the pendant by the string, the vampire looked into it pensively and spoke slowly and thoughtfully, "Anya was the only other Scooby to survive that night. When she found out what happened she came looking for me in the cemetery. she was so different after that." Spike paused and forced himself to go on, "We took care of each other, up until the end, tried to keep the demons and ghoulies from taking over. We were just wasting our time. We needed a slayer." Spike looked down at Buffy, "We needed THE slayer. then one day Anya was reading one of Giles' old books on vengeance demons and the like. She found this spell where a vengeance demon could sacrifice itself to another. Thus transferring her power into the pendant, to be used when the other found it necessary. She died so that I would have the power to bring you back."  
  
Buffy swallowed, she had stopped crying and was feeling her inner strength again, "How does it work?"  
  
"Are you really sure?" Spike queried, and Buffy quietly nodded. "Just think of home." Then he crushed the pendant in his hand, releasing mists of blues, pinks, and purples. Buffy and Spike clung to each other as the mists swallowed them. Sounds and sights came flooding into Buffy's mind... everything she has tried to block out; people's voices and old photographic memories playing in her mind's eyes.  
  
Then it felt like she was sinking, without a body to hold her up, just floating downwards in a never-ending sea of tranquility. "It feels like I'm in heaven." She thought to herself even though her concept of herself was fading by the moment as she merged with the hazy nothingness.  
  
And then as quick as it began, she was home. Flopping onto her bed, Buffy felt whole once more. Spike was lying next to her, she realized as the room came into focus.  
  
"Quite a ride, huh?" A smirk spread across Spike's face. Buffy said nothing, exhausted, and rested her head on his chest. "Sleep luv, get some sleep."  
  
Just before she fell asleep, Buffy replied softly, "I'm home."  
  
  
  
Buffy slept almost till sunset that night. Half expecting to see her other home and to hear her mother cooking her breakfast, she was slightly surprised to wake up in Sunnydale.  
  
After taking a shower, and getting dressed in jeans and a tank top she walked downstairs, stopping in the hallway every few feet to stare at another photo on the wall, with each an old memory was dug up. They didn't hurt her anymore, and with each rock that was turned over, she felt twice as more powerful and twice as more sure of herself.  
  
"Hey, Slayer," Spike called from the bottom of the stairs, "I was wondering when you'd and wake up."  
  
"Can't sleep the whole day away. There's too many things to do." Buffy smiled as she walked down the steps and into the kitchen, "I'm starved. What are you cooking?" Opening a random pot, she saw some red liquid. Spike hurriedly took her hand away and shut the pot.  
  
"You don't wanna know."  
  
"Was that blood? You're cooking blood on my stove, in my pots. that's- that's just really gross, Spike."  
  
"Yeah, well, I made you some of that veggie food you used to like, which is ten times worse." He grinned.  
  
Buffy looked in the other pot, "Rice, broccoli and steamed carrots. my favorite." She grabbed a plate full and sat down at the table as Spike poured himself some weird concoction of blood, meatballs, and chicken. He sat down across from her, watching her do the normal mundane things he remembered.  
  
"Spike, I want to visit Xander and Willow and the rest." She paused trying not to upset the atmosphere, "Do you know where they were buried?"  
  
"Hanover Cemetery, Row 45. near that big white angel statue."  
  
"Would you take me there? I don't want to go alone."  
  
Spike nodded, and they went on with their meal.  
  
An hour later, Buffy wearing black corduroy pants, a black peasant top, and a necklace Xander had given to her for Christmas a few years ago. Sitting on the sofa in the living room, she waited for Spike to finish getting dressed. After a few moments, he emerged from the basement, which he had made into his bedroom during the past few years. He too was wearing all black.  
  
Walking into the living room, he threw a stake to Buffy, "Remember how to use one of these?"  
  
"Like riding a bicycle," She put her leather coat on and they were off. "The point end goes in the heart right?"  
  
  
  
The streets of Sunnydale were a lot more decrepit then she had remembered. No humans were seen at all, Spike noted that most of them had either been killed or left the hellmouth. Shattered windows, looted shells of cars, and vacant houses filled the place she had once found so beautiful.  
  
About twenty minutes into their walk, Buffy noticed that there were three vampires following them. She motioned to Spike, trying to appear ignorant of the danger, but when the three attacked Spike and Buffy were ready for them.  
  
Buffy felt the Slayer skill and power returning quickly as she staked the first vampire. Spike took care of the second with equal skill. The third, though Buffy pummeled for a few minutes, and then held it up against the brick wall. Weakly it struggled against the slayer, but it was clearly on its way to being staked dead.  
  
"You know, I could kill you." Buffy told it, "Real easily. But I won't. Wanna know why?"  
  
The vampire shook its head no.  
  
"Because you're going to deliver a message for me." Buffy commanded, "I want you to go to whoever runs this town now and tell them that the slayer's back in Sunnydale."  
  
At hearing the mention of the slayer, the vampire's eyes went wide. "Anything you want. I'll go tell everyone. And our Master will know. I promise. Just please. don't kill me. Please."  
  
Buffy punched the vampire across the face and let it drop to the floor. "Get out of here."  
  
Though it was hurt, the vampire limped away as quick as it could, promising to honor the pact and cowering like a baby.  
  
"Come on, Spike, I've got old friends to visit," Buffy started to walk away, while Spike was still grinning from the way Buffy had shown she was in charge again. They might just have a shot to get this town back the way it had been.  
  
  
  
It took another five minutes to reach the cemetery and find the right area. They had all been buried next to each other, forever together.  
  
Buffy stopped in front of Xander's grave and felt the words on the tombstone. "I miss you, my Xander-shaped friend. I know how much you loved me, and I'm so sorry I hurt you. Even while I was alive I hurt you because I could never tell you that I loved you in the way you wanted to hear. But I did love you, deeply. And I'll never forget everything you gave to me. How much humor you added to what would have been a very difficult life." She left a rose on his grave and moved on to Willow's resting spot.  
  
"Willow. You were my best friend, and I watched you turn from a shy little schoolgirl to an in charge wiccan. I was always so proud of you, you had gotten so powerful that last year. You gave of yourself selflessly, and were always there when I needed you. You let me have what a slayer needs the most, a friend. A best friend. I love you." She left another rose near Willow's tombstone and then turned to Dawn's grave.  
  
"Dawnie. You were the best fake little sister any monk could have given to me. I always thought you would have been a great slayer if I trained you, if I had allowed you to get more involved, but I was too afraid. Afraid of having you get hurt or killed, or having to see what I had seen. I wanted to protect you, to shield you from this world, and I ending up killing you instead." Buffy paused as she started crying, "And now I miss you. I miss you so much." She placed one of her necklaces, the one that Dawn had always 'borrowed' at her sister's grave. "You liked it so much, I thought you should have it."  
  
Anya was buried a few feet away from Dawn. "Anya, Spike told me how much you sacrificed to bring me home. I can't thank you enough. It's painful here, but the fact is this is where I belong. I belong amongst my friends, remembering them the way they were and not in some world where they don't even exist. I hope you met up with Xander on the other side and are very happy together, I always thought you two would make it." Buffy placed what was left of the vengeance pendant Spike had crushed open on Anya's grave. "Thank you for helping bring me home."  
  
She stood and stared at the graves for a moment, wiping away a few tears. "Good-bye," she whispered and then rejoined Spike. Buffy laced her arm through his, and they started to walk home.  
  
Standing together, by their graves, invisible to the mortal world, were Xander, Willow, Dawn, and Anya. Nothing more than ghosts, they had no way to tell Buffy how much they still cared for her, and that they forgave her. Still Xander whispered, "Take care of her, for me. For us."  
  
The vampire stopped, senses tingling, and looked over his shoulder. A warm summer breeze floated past Spike and Buffy. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, Spike just looked down at Buffy and smiled. They continued walking, as he silently replied to the whispering wind, "Forever."  
  
THE END  
  
Hopefully that ending didn't suck. It's always hard to pick up a story that I wrote months before. But a writing coach of mine said that I should use notes when writing long stories so I can jump back in more easily. So I'll save that idea for the next story I write.  
  
BIG Thanks to Charisma1525 for her diligence in emailing me to get me to finish the story. I thought about stopping it a few times, but then I thought of Charisma and how I had promised to finish it for her and yay! Now I'm done.  
  
Also thanks to everyone else who had kind words and encouragement to share. Couldn't have done it without you all. 


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